


Colosseus

by rarelypoetic



Series: Pumpkin!au [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Autumn, Gen, Halloween, Human Castiel, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarelypoetic/pseuds/rarelypoetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes to an apple orchard that happens to have a seasonal pumpkin patch. While looking for the perfect pumpkin to bring home to Mary for the holidays, he gets sidetracked by a surly uncle and his blunt niece. A battle of wills ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colosseus

It was unusually cold for October in Lawrence. The dim midday sun hung low in the pale sky, overlooking the sparsely grassed field below. There were a few stragglers still hanging out in the orchard, trying to pick their last few apples before the sun disappeared completely. Dean wasn’t one of them. He didn’t even like apples, really, unless they were baked into a pie with too much cinnamon and just a dash of nutmeg.

 

Dean roamed the edge of the apple tree line listlessly. He turned the map in his hands over and over again, as if looking at it from a different angle would make it any more decipherable. _Fuck_. He should’ve brought Sam with him. Sure, he’d be annoying enough to want to pick all of the apples in the goddamn orchard (and probably some of the eggplant from the vegetable patch, too), but at least Dean would have half a chance of finding the pumpkin patch by sundown. Why did this place have to be so goddamn big?

 

A gaggle of grubby children shrieked at each other from the corn maze to Dean’s right, the sound so piercing he veered sharply to the left to preserve his eardrums. His eyes were still glued to the map when he took his next step, rolled three inches, then lost his balance and went tumbling to the ground. His fall was broken by something large and vaguely spherical. Dean squirmed onto his side and came face to face with the enormous orange breadth of one of the biggest pumpkins he’d ever seen. Dean used it as leverage to hoist himself to his feet again.

 

It was still just as big looking at it from this angle. Like one of those cartoon in Charlie Brown, its color was saturated orange with a perfect, bright green stem and little curly leaves branching off from it. It was so incredibly rotund that Dean thought it probably weighed at least 50 pounds. Now he _really_ wished Sam were here with him.

 

When he’d promised his mom to shop for the fall necessities, he thought he’d walk into the nearest grocer, snag a mini pumpkin off the shelf, and be home in time to catch the tail-end of the daytime Halloween specials. Then Mary had got it into her head that they needed to have an “authentic pumpkin. From a real pumpkin patch, Dean. Like the kind of thing you see on tv.” It wasn’t really fair to deny her. Dean knew well enough that she had never gotten to have this kind of thing as a kid; growing up, her dad hadn’t exactly been a festive kind of guy. And they had been slacking for the past few years, too, with Sam off at college and Dad long dead of a stroke.

 

But this— well, _this_ was perfect. Dean could picture his mom’s great big sunny grin when he presented this mammoth of a pumpkin to her. Lately, she hadn’t exactly been sad, per se, but Dean sensed a sort of quietness in her — a solemnity that he couldn’t determine the origin of and didn’t know how to quell. He felt pretty useless about it. The pumpkin would bring her a brief moment of happiness and clarity, he knew. It was with that thought that he rubbed his hands together and braced his legs. He would lift this thing or die trying.

 

Just as Dean got his hands on its cold, round sides, the sound of wheels crunching over rocks and gravel came from behind him. Someone cleared their throat pointedly.

 

Dean straightened, annoyed at being interrupted — he had been in the zone, dammit — and turned around. At his feet there was a young girl with white blonde braids and a cherubic face sitting in a rickety old wagon. Dean opened his mouth to ask her where her parents where when a man’s voice broke the silence.

 

"Excuse me, but I believe that’s our pumpkin."

 

Dean almost outright laughed. First of all, this guy’s voice was _deep_. Like, Arnold Schwarzenegger levels of the deep, except way sexier. He thought maybe it was put-on to intimidate him, but one look at the man’s deadpan expression told him otherwise. Second, who the hell goes pumpkin picking in a suit and tie? And don’t even get Dean started on the trench coat ( _beige?_ seriously?).

 

Dean scoffed and made a show of inspecting the pumpkin in question. “Really? I don’t see a name on it.”

 

The man pursed his lips like Dean was a particularly persistent garden pest and looked down at the little girl, presumably his daughter. “Claire, are you sure this is the pumpkin you want?”

 

"Yes!" she chirped. Dean almost gave in immediately because she was so fucking cute, but then he pictured Mary smiling again and felt a righteous surge of protectiveness.

 

"Look, pal, no hard feelings, but I saw this pumpkin first, so it’s mine.”   _Finder’s keepers? Nice, asshole_ , Dean thought. _Kindergarten logic: the way to go_.

 

“My name is _Castiel_ ,” the man replied, sounding more than a little ticked off. The only visible sign that he was pissed was the muscle twitching intermittently in his sharp jaw. “And actually, Claire and I saw this pumpkin about ten minutes ago. The only reason we left was to get this wagon from the front desk so that we could wheel it to the car.”

 

Oh. Well. That was actually pretty smart of this ‘Castiel’ character. Smarter than Dean had been, at any rate. He probably would have snapped a few vertebrae trying to lug it back to the Impala. Still, though, something stubborn and insistent niggled at him like an unscratched mosquito bite. He couldn’t just let the pumpkin go that easily.

 

"There are plenty of other pumpkins here," Dean reasoned aloud. "Are you saying none of the other ones are good enough for you?"

 

Castiel legitimately rolled his eyes. “It’s Claire here who picked it out. Are _you_ saying you’re not mature enough to give up a pumpkin to a seven year old?”

 

"She’s small!" Dean burst out irrationally. "What is she going to do with a pumpkin three times her size?"

 

Castiel cleared his throat and laid a palm on his daughter’s shoulder. “Do you mind staying here and watching the pumpkin for a minute, Claire? I need to have a word with the nice man.”

 

Claire nodded seriously, like she knew Castiel had Serious Business to take care of. “I’ll wait here and guard it from more intruders.”

 

Dean didn’t have time to scoff; Castiel’s warm palm had landed on the back of his neck and was guiding him a few yards off to the side. They stopped behind a huge apple tree, just out of ear-shot of Claire if they talked quietly, but close enough that Castiel could see her and hear her if she yelled for help.

 

"You must relinquish the pumpkin," Castiel said tersely, cutting straight to the point. Was this dude even for real?

 

"Under whose orders?" Dean snarked. He was probably being insensitive, but it was too much fun to rile him up.

Castiel stepped closer, backing Dean up against the tree trunk. The rough edges of the bark dug into his leather jacket uncomfortably, but he didn’t make a move to adjust himself. A moment of weakness could mean a loss.

 

"Look, Halloween is my niece’s favorite holiday, and I won’t be the one to ruin it for her. Claire specifically asked me to take her to the pumpkin patch for the ‘biggest, most best pumpkin in the world’, and that just happens to be the one we saw _first_.”

 

Niece? That was a surprise. He’d been sure Claire was Castiel’s daughter.

 

“You left it out in the open! It was fair game,” Dean said. The muscle in Castiel’s jaw jumped again. He placed a hand on the trunk just above Dean’s shoulder and leaned in.

 

"What is your name?"

 

"Dean."

 

"Well, _Dean_ , I already asked you nicely to give it to me. If you continue to be so stubborn, I’ll have to take it by force.”

 

Dean felt an involuntary prickle of arousal zip up his spine. It was starting to dawn on him just how nice Castiel’s eyes were up close. They were lurid blue and cold as the mid-October sky. He smelled liked the brink of winter too, all pinewood and gingerbread with a trace of mint aftershave.

 

"Oh?" That was all Dean was capable of saying at this point, to his embarrassment. They were in very close proximity, and just speaking made his breath ghost over the tip of Castiel’s reddening nose.

 

"It’s for my mom," Dean eventually said, feeling all of the fight leach out of him at once. "The pumpkin, I mean. That’s why I care about it so much. I just wanted to cheer her up. She always gets into these weird moods during fall."

 

Castiel’s shoulders sagged. He immediately looked much less imposing. Dean blew out a long breath and Castiel suddenly took a step back, as if realizing how little space was between them.

 

"Maybe I can talk Claire into something else," Castiel said finally. "You’re right; she’s young. It’s not like she nee—"

 

"No!" Dean said, surprising even himself. "No. You were right from the beginning. You saw it first, so it’s yours. Sorry, sometimes I can’t resist a challenge and I get a little carried away."

 

The corner of Castiel’s mouth quirked up minutely. “Thank you, Dean.”

 

"Let’s get back to your niece, huh? I’ll help you lift it into the wagon."

 

Castiel nodded and they headed back to the spot where Claire was standing tall and proud like a sentry. When she saw Dean approaching, she adopted a defensive pose, cocking one hip and crossing her arms at her chest.

 

"Are you here to steal our pumpkin?" she asked frankly. Dean laughed this time, open and loud. He might have imagined it, but he thought he saw Castiel smile faintly out of the corner of his eye.

 

"Nah. It’s yours, kid. Take good care of it for me, okay?"

 

Claire squinted suspiciously for a moment, as though Dean was going to yell “sike!” and take off running with the pumpkin in his arms. When he made no move to do so, she gradually relaxed into a cheeky smile.

 

"I’m not gonna say thank you for the pumpkin because it was already ours, but," she paused, "thank you for not being a butthead."

 

Castiel muffled a snort with the palm of his hand and nudged Dean with his elbow. “Yes, Dean. What she said.”

 

Dean grinned, proud to have brought some measure of happiness to someone today, even if it wasn’t his mom.

 

"Okay, now whaddya say we load this baby into the wagon?" Dean suggested, patting the firm orange globe appreciatively.

 

With the combined effort of two grown men (and little Claire ‘lifting’ from underneath like a wannabe Atlas), the pumpkin came off the ground pretty easily. They dumped it into the wagon carefully, so as not to bruise its perfect complexion, and when they were done it looked just as good sitting there in the wagon as it had in the patch.

 

Dean never thought he could get so emotional over a fucking fruit. He felt his eyes getting a little wet at the sight of it, but that was probably just the brisk wind. Castiel gathered up the handle and looked out across the vast fields in the direction of the parking lot.

 

"So, uh, I’ll see you around, I guess?" Dean asked, a touch too hopeful. Castiel looked down at Claire and then back at Dean, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

 

"I’d like to stay and help you pick out another pumpkin, but I promised my brother I’d have her home by six for dinner," Castiel said, eyes soft with contrition.

 

"Or else I’ll turn into a pumpkin!" Claire piped up cheerily. Dean smiled at her and reached out to ruffle her pale hair. At the last moment he realized that he may be overstepping his bounds, and quickly retracted his hands to stuff them in his pockets.

 

"It was… nice to meet you, Dean." Castiel turned to leave but was stopped by the insistent tug of a little fist on his pant leg.

 

"Wait!" She looked back at Dean. "Why don’t you give Uncle Cas your phone number so you don’t lose him? This way you can look for pumpkins together another day."

 

Castiel’s face broke out into its sunniest grin yet. “I think that’s a great idea, Claire.”

 

Castiel fished his phone out out his pocket and handed it to Dean, who had already thrust out his ancient Motorola like an over-eager puppy. They exchanged phones and typed their numbers in quickly, Dean adding a little winking emoticon to the end of his name in the contact list because he was actually a twelve year old boy.

 

"I’ll call you," Castiel promised, "and we’ll set up that date."

 

Dean wasn’t so sure they were talking about pumpkins anymore.

 

**Author's Note:**

> title shamelessly taken from the latin word for what essentially means "gigantic." if this gets any feedback, I'll turn it into an October/Halloween series and we can see Dean & Cas's relationship progress a bit beyond two blushing idiots. (also, I de-aged Claire quite a few years because I feel like sometimes hot-headed adults need a little girl to show them who's boss)
> 
> Spontaneously written & inspired by the following tumblr prompt: "met at a pumpkin patch fighting over the same perfectly round and picturesque pumpkin au" by tumblr user caswitch 
> 
> originally posted here: http://excaliburcas.tumblr.com/post/99865041688/caswitch-aus-that-need-to-happen-autumn


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